


The Talk

by White_Noise



Series: The Other Life of Quentin Holmes, Quartermaster [14]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies), Sherlock (TV), Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: M/M, Mycroft gives the Shovel talk, Q is a Holmes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-17
Updated: 2013-06-17
Packaged: 2017-12-15 06:18:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/846275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/White_Noise/pseuds/White_Noise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James Bond has been waiting for this moment. The moment the oldest Holmes brother kidnaps him off the street and asks the spy what he is doing with his youngest brother. It doesn't make it any easier when it actually happens. As Bond is learning, Qs family have a strange way of showing their affection.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Talk

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, I know I have been away for a little while now. I am sorry. Real life got in the way. But today I finally had some time on my hands and was in a writing mood and the next part of this series was written. And since a lot of people have asked about Mycroft, I felt like focusing on him for once. 
> 
> By the way, this is UnBeta'd. My normal Beta hasn't gotten back to me yet so all mistakes are my owe.

"Ah, Mr Bond. Please have a seat." 

From his place in the middle of the dark warehouse, James Bond, Agent 007 of the British Secret Service frowned. He looked at the seat. He looked at the man standing before the seat. His frown grew.

"No." he replied.

Normally, he would try to be polite in his rejection. Certainly, the man hadn't done anything to warrant a hostile response. Well, nothing compared to some in Bonds long history of dealing with 'hostile' men. 

Being subjected to a rather armature display of CCTV control and politely abducted off the streets of London were not generally hostile in the spy's mind. Hell, they had even mentioned that they had waited for the one time they knew he wouldn’t be carrying a gun, so no blood would be spilt. Not the most reassuring thing in the world but in Bond’s history, no one had ever thought about it before.

And it probably didn't help that Bond had been waiting for this day for a while now, ever since he had laid eyes on this man six months ago while waiting at the Royal London Hospital to find out if his Quartermaster was alive. 

Mycroft Holmes, sometimes called the British Governments greatest weapon, although how true that was, Bond was yet to find out. Brother to the Consulting Detective and general pain in the ass, Sherlock Holmes. But also brother to MI6s youngest Quartermaster. 

Yes, Bond knew about Mycroft. It was hard not to when every time the man called his former boss, M had cursed a blue streak. 

It hadn't helped that Bond had just spent twenty minutes in a car with a rather irritating young woman. The young woman, who had pointedly ignored him at first, typing away on her phone and then when he chose to ignore her in return, tried to strike up a conversation. But Bond knew this trick. He had seen the Honeytrap too many times in his long career not to recognise it from the start. She was there to gather information on him and report back, her body to suggest something which she would not offer. Bond had played the Honeytrap far too many times to fall for it now.

Of course, the young woman (Bond hadn't bothered remembering her name since he knew it would chance soon enough) had huffed in annoyance when the car had slowed to a halt and the agent had yet to say a word. Bond doubted she had often failed in her job. 

And now he was here, in this dark old warehouse which smelt like mud and rot. Not the worst place he had ever been, but certainly not the nicest. 

And standing in the middle, looking like he owned the place (He probably did, knowing the rumours surrounding the Holmes family and the testimony of Doctor John Watson) was this man. A man who, with a single word, could make or break almost anyone. Bond said almost anyone because he knew of the disaster that was the Moriarty incident. Q had talked about it at great length after his second oldest brother had finally emerged from hiding. 

Q.

Bond could already tell this meeting was going to be about his Quartermaster. Mycroft Holmes may have the morals of a cat (And Bond really couldn’t criticise that. He did too) but he was protective of his brother. Bond remembered how the man had sealed off a whole Hospital because his brother had been there. He also remembered how quickly Moran had disappeared from MI6s custody after Bond (With a bit of help from a certain detective) had brought him in.

Mycroft had power. And he wasn’t afraid to use it to protect his brothers.

And now the man was standing before him, just out of Bonds reach and leaning on the handle of his umbrella like it was a walking stick. He had a look on his face which could have been amusement. 

“Ah, the arrogance.” Mycroft said as Bond stared him down. “Where would we be without men like you, Mr Bond?” 

“In a lot of trouble, apparently.” Bond shot back.

Mycroft smiled, looking down at the umbrella for a moment before shifting his weight and swinging it up over his shoulder. He took a step forward.

“Indeed.” He said, his eyes meeting Bonds.

“You are an intelligent man, Mr Bond. No doubt you already know why I have brought you here.” 

Bond formed his hands into fists as his back straightened. To anyone watching, he looked like he was standing at attention. Even his face was carefully blank, not showing emotion as he observed this man.

“Pretend I don’t.” He responded. 

“My brother.” Mycroft responded. “I have no doubt Sherlock has already had this conversation with you. He certainly can be threatening when he wants. But I could not call myself a good older brother without inputting my own thoughts. What are your intentions with….Q?”

Bond quickly noted the slight pause in Mycroft’s speech as the man debated what to call his brother. No doubt he wasn’t sure how much Bond knew of his family and was being careful to protect his youngest sibling. In an odd way, Bond was grateful. 

Although he did know his Quartermasters real name (Sherlock Holmes had no love for National Security and certainly wasn’t willing to change his habits for something as trivial as protecting his brother. It was only one of the many reasons why Bond had wanted to punch the man) Bond had never used it out loud. And until the day Q came and introduced himself to Bond by his real name, Bond would not use it. It wasn’t his to use. 

Blue eyes glanced over at Mycroft Holmes.

“My relationship with my Quartermaster is not your business.” The spy grunted.

Mycroft raised an eyebrow at Bond’s tone.

“Maybe. But he is not my Quartermaster. He is my brother. And I am certainly allowed to worry about this dangerous entanglement.”

“Are you accusing me of endangering him?” Bond questioned, his frown growing.

“Mr Bond, during my brother’s brief history with MI6, he has been shot, harassed, threatened with imprisonment and had a building blown up around him. Not to mention what I know of your own history. Forgive me if I don’t entirely trust you with my brother’s welfare.” 

Bond blinked. He knew about Moran’s attack on Q which had left him hospitalised with a bullet in his side. And he could guess that the younger man had also been around during Silva’s firebomb of MI6’s old Headquarters. But he had never even heard of those other two incidents which Mycroft referred to. And that made him angry.

“Who?” He growled out, wanting to know the names of Qs attackers, so he might protect the Hacker. 

Mycroft smiled again. He knew he had hit a nerve.

“My brother never did tell you how he was recruited into MI6. Certainly your former ‘M’ did not make it a pleasant experience for him.” 

Bond froze. M? Not the new M, not Mallory. But HIS M? She had threatened Q? 

“So I ask you again Mr Bond. What is your interest in my brother? I know it is professional. And although he is yet to tell me, I do suspect that it is romantic as well. You are living with him, after all. Which, given your history, is troubling.”

“What do you know of my history?” Bond questioned, eyes flashing.

“Everything.” Mycroft responded. He wasn’t smiling anymore. Reaching with his free hand into his pocket, the oldest Holmes pulled out a small book. Hooking his umbrella over his arm, he quickly opened it.

“Vesper Lynd.” He said in a quiet voice.

Bond froze at that name. At her name. 

“There are others, of course. But her name certainly seemed the most effective.” Mycroft still hadn’t looked up from the book. “Given that ….incident, tell me how I can trust you with my brother’s welfare?” 

“Vesper betrayed me and was betrayed in return. There was nothing I could do to stop her.”

“And yet, you don’t seem to think of the possibility that Q could do the same?” 

Bond started. He had never thought of such a thing. Even after Mycroft had said it, he could not imagine Q betraying him like Vesper had. 

“Your sense of trust is impressive, considering you’re history. But this time it is well placed. Q will not betray you. Will you betray him?” 

Bond shook his head, his eyes studying the dirty floor before him. It was all he could do with the dark thoughts running through his head. Would he betray Q? No doubt, given the right circumstances, then yes he would. But only as the very last option, if the safety of the United Kingdom was at stake and there was no other way.

Mycroft stared at the silent spy for a long minute, reading the changing expressions on his face. Slowly, he slipped the book back into his pocket. He had his answer.

“Remarkable.” He finally said, knocking Bond from his silent thoughts.

Bond looked up at him, the fire once again flashing in his eyes.

“What?” He growled. 

Mycroft gave a breathless laugh.

“When Q was young, our mother took my brothers and I to see the new Musical ‘Les Miserable’ Q may have been a child, but even then he wanted to move to France and join a revolution.” A fond smile appeared on Mycroft’s face at the memory. “Although that dream did change as he grew, it never went away. Q wants to change the world. And I suspect, through you, he is.” 

“I’m clearly not here to listen to you recollect, Mr Holmes.” Bond snapped. 

“No, you are not. But you cannot fault me on trying pleasantries, now that I have all the information I require. And I certainly do not plan to try and threaten or blackmail you. I know that a man like you will not take kindly to such actions. I guess this is the end of our interview.” 

“I think it ended a long time ago.” 

Mycroft turned. He paused before looking over his shoulder.

“My brother is very good at judging characters. Certainly he has decided on yours. And I don’t believe I need tell you that we will be watching with great interest. Good afternoon Mr Bond. Give my brother my regards.” 

The man turned and stepped into the gloom, his body quickly swallowed up by the shadows.

Slowly, Bond unclenched his hands, feeling the sudden warmth as blood rushed back into them. He shifted, allowing the feeling back into his too tense body. Then, slowly, he turned on the spot. 

The woman had appeared behind him, hands tucked neatly behind her back, her expression blank. 

“This way.” She said, turning sharply on her high heeled feet. Bond followed, grateful to be leaving. 

He didn’t speak as he was ushered into the car, nor as the woman slipped into the seat beside him and pulled her phone out. 

“Address?” She asked in a cutting tone.

Bond contemplated getting her to drop him off at the entrance to MI6, to going in and having a word with M. Of showing these people exactly who he worked for. But he decided against it.

Quickly, he gave her the address of Qs apartment. She nodded and the car sped off, carrying its two passengers to the address. 

It was starting to get dark outside, the sun setting over a clear sky. It was going to be a beautiful but cold night in London.

By the time the car reached Qs apartment building, the street lights were on, casting a yellow glow onto the people below. A shadow was sitting in the steps leading up to the door of the building. 

The car stopped and with a nod to the woman, Bond opened the door and stepped out. The car sped off before the door had even closed behind the spy.

Q shifted on his seat and lowered the book he had been reading to look at the agent, his eyes flashing under his glasses.

“I thought he was going to keep you all night.” The younger man commented before looking back down at his book. It was a hard copy in blue with gold writing. In the dim light, Bond could just make out the title. 

_1984\. George Orwell._

Bond stepped forward, regarding the younger man. He was still dressed from work, white shirt and black tie hidden under one of his trademark jumpers, this one red. 

Leaning down, Bond grabbed the tie in one hand and let his other tangle in Qs hair. Softly, he kissed the man. 

After a few moments, Q pulled back, looking at the agent. He smiled softly, almost amused.

“Careful. Big Brother is watching.” He said as he closed his book with a snap.

Bond couldn’t help but turn to look across the street. There was a CCTV camera fixed on them. He turned back.

“Let him.” 

Taking a step back, Bond reached out, grabbing Qs hand and pulling the hacker to his feet. Q stumbled slightly before righting himself. Carefully, he tucked his book under his arm as Bond stepped past him up the stairs. The spy turned around.

“And just for the record, I don’t like your brothers.” 

There was a small laugh behind the spy as Bond pushed his key into the lock.

“A pity. Because I think they are fond of you.” 

Bond froze as the door opened.

“Don’t ever say that again.” He grunted before stepping into the building. 

Q grinned and turned once more, his eyes fixed on the camera across the street which was still trained on his door. He nodded to it before turning and following his agent into the house and pushing the door closed behind him.


End file.
